All We Know is Falling
by Griever11
Summary: As Beckett heals from the gunshot wound after the fateful day at the cemetery, the rest of the world crumbles around her. Post 3x24, AU S4. Caskett.
1. Chapter 1

Beckett awoke with a start. She found herself drenched in sweat, heart thudding in beneath her ribcage.

Bad dream. Again.

The sun filtered in through the blinds and she reached out for her phone, checking for the time. She flinched as she felt her stitches tugging and she grit her teeth through the pain. 9am in the morning, one message received and no missed calls. And she knew who that message was from.

It was the same one every day – for almost a week now.

_Good morning, detective. Thinking of you. Heal well. Castle. _

Honestly, she didn't think he had it in him to actually wait her out. Sure, she'd sort of promised to call him when she was ready physically see him, but she never thought he would _actually_ listen to her this time. She expected him to turn up the day after, apologise for not listening and spout some crazy reason he absolutely had to see her, pushing and forcing himself into her life the way she's so used to. But the day came and went, as did the next and the one after. The only contact she had with him were his daily morning texts. Soon enough it turned into a week without seeing him and try as she did to deny it, she was getting annoyed.

So as she woke up on the eighth Castle-less day spent in the hospital nursing her self-pity, enduring the pain that coursed through her entire being, she decided enough was enough.

Her fingers toyed with the cellphone in her hand, a sad replacement for the one she smashed when she landed on it after taking the bullet to the chest. Her other hand touched her chest, fingers lightly going over the bandages wrapped tightly around upper body. The pain was bearable, at least. The burning sensation every time she moved had been dulled to a constant throbbing and she only suffered the occasional spasm now and then if she moved too quickly. They must have given her the really good stuff.

She swiped a finger across the phone's screen, unlocked it and pulled up the message he'd sent her, finger hovering over the reply button.

It should be easier – she'd done it countless times before. He was definitely not a stranger to her late night phone calls or texts after a particularly harrowing case – they'd talk about everything and nothing and it would feel like the most natural thing in the world. She was always willing to listen as he complained about his family life, his empty nest and he in turn would lend an ear to her various every day rants. Why then was it so hard _now_?

She changed her mind and backed out of the message, pulling up the call icon instead, she mentally prepared herself for the inevitable conversation she was about to have. What would she say – no doubt he'd want to visit her again. Did she really want that? Or was it just the steady comforting timbre of his voice she wanted to hear? Could she deal with seeing him, knowing he'd professed his love for her as she lay dying in that cemetery? The questions –

A loud bang startled her out of her ruminations and she dropped her cellphone onto the bed. A large group of doctors burst into the ICU, most of them masked and looked as if they were prepped for surgery. They breezed past her and she could sense the urgency in their movements, precise and quick – as if they were in a race towards someone in the room. She turned her head, tracking them, fascinated by the commotion.

A nurse followed, pushing a cart noisily after them. More nurses came in after, an empty gurney between them as they too disappeared from her sight. Beckett stretched around, now more than curious about the apparent emergency the doctors had found themselves in. The stitches on the side of her torso started pulling uncomfortably as she moved around to get a better look, but for once it didn't bother her.

The group of five doctors crowded around a patient at the far end of the room, frantically doing something out of her sight, yelling instructions to each other as tools were passed from hand to hand. The beeps of the monitor became more irregular and it seemed as though the doctors were more agitated the longer it took for them to fix whatever the problem was.

She felt horrible for even thinking about it, but after a moment she picked up her phone and snapped a quick picture of the craziness and sent it to Castle. It was better than nothing, she supposed. She ignored them after a few more minutes and smiled when her phone vibrated with a response from Castle.

'_I guess whoever that is isn't doing as well as you are?' _

She was about to compose a reply when another message came through from him.

'_Also, your cellphone is meant to be used for making calls to loved ones, Beckett, not morbidly enjoying someone else's unfortunate circumstance. How terrible of you._

Even through his texts it was as if she could hear the teasing tone of his voice and she smiled to herself. She guessed he wasn't too cut up about her lack of communication and almost instantly she felt the pressure lift. He was fine. She was … less than fine, but making it work. They were going to be fine.

She started typing a reply, typing out a semicolon for a wink but the phone was pulled out of her hands before she managed to finish.

"Hey!"

Her protest fell onto deaf ears as she noticed more doctors approaching her bed. Her cellphone was dumped unceremoniously onto the tray with other medical instruments and the other doctors started unplugging the tubes and wires that were connected to the monitors.

"Uh – what's going on here?" She asked.

"We gotta get you out of here," someone said. Beckett looked around her and panic started to settle in as she realized they were preparing to move her.

"Wait, wait – what? I'm not scheduled – HEY!"

Her outburst made the doctors pause whatever they were doing and a tall masked doctor stepped up to her.

"We've got a situation downstairs and it seems as if it's starting to spread. Just a minor infection, but we're trying our best to contain it so we're moving you somewhere safe. There's nothing to worry, Miss Beckett. Just taking precautions, that's all," he told her.

Something in the tone of his voice told her he was not being quite as truthful about the situation as she'd like. His eyes were shifty and he was sweating a little too much. That, coupled with the urgent whispers around her from the other doctors and nurses set off little alarm bells in her head.

"I'm a cop. If there's something wrong, I can help – I can call my people, get them here as soon as possible – "

Her words were once again ignored and she felt her bed moving. They started pushing her out of the ICU and down the hallway outside. Double doors at the end of the hallway burst open as the end of her bed hit them, jarring her and causing a jolt of pain to shoot through her. The doctors didn't even blink an eye at her obvious pain. She knew then that there was definitely something _very_ wrong. Some crazy, terrible thing must have happened and her gut instinct was telling her it was more than just an 'infection'.

Bomb, maybe?

Or the person who tried to kill her had come back to finish the job?

Both scenarios sent a chill down her spine but all she could do was lay down helplessly and grit her teeth through the pain as she was pushed into through another set of double doors. They finally slowed down and she found herself in what looked like an operating room bathed in darkness save for the blue glow from the monitors and various other machines in the room.

"Okay, guys – I'm going to need something better than 'an infection' if I'm about to be operated on," Beckett said, fixing the doctors with the fiercest glare she could muster.

"No, no operation, Miss Beckett. We're just keeping you here for safety purposes. Quarantine, if you may. The other rooms and the rest of the hospital wing we fear may already be compromised but as this is the most isolated OR in the hospital, you stand a good chance of coming out of this unharmed," the same tall doctor who spoke before explained.

The other doctors pulled their masks off and she could tell from their expression that they were all equally relieved to be in that isolated operating room with her. The tension in the air was palpable and it took almost everything she had to not jump off her bed and demand more answers from them. Instead, she settled for pointing at the trolley they'd wheeled in with her.

"Can I have my phone back?"

A young doctor picked it up and handed it to her, her green eyes clouded with what Beckett could only describe as a mixture of fear and hope. She was young and pretty, reminding Beckett of Alexis. The doctor smiled ruefully at Kate before backing away and slumped down against the closest wall. "Yeah, you should uh – It's probably best if you let people know you're safe, I guess. For now."

"Daniels!"

"Dude!"

Apparently the other doctors didn't approve of what Doctor Daniels had just said, but she just shrugged. "What, there's nothing anyone can do right now – might as well suck it up and face reality, guys."

Beckett looked up from the message she was typing and eyed the group of doctors warily.

"And what exactly is the reality here, may I ask? You - ," she pointed to the tall doctor who'd first spoken to her. " - said that it was a minor infection. The rest of your colleagues however, look like they've seen the devil incarnate and something tells me you don't move people to 'the most isolated OR' just because of a minor infection."

A blonde doctor at the far end of the room slow clapped and Beckett could see the sneer on his face. "Wow, she's smart this one," he drawled.

Beckett grit her teeth and was about to knock him down a peg or two, but her cellphone vibrated and she looked at it in surprise. She hadn't actually sent her message yet.

"_Are you okay? I'm watching some news piece about a riot at the hospital. Call me if you can. Please. " _

Riot? Here? She looked up at the doctors and contemplated her options. The blonde, smug one – Keenan, according to the tag on his doctor's coat was now in a heated conversation with Daniels and the tall doctor. The nurse who had followed them in was in a corner comforting someone – probably only an intern, which meant answers would have to come from the one standing by the doors, peering out of the glass rectangles nervously every few minutes.

Infection her ass.

"Hey, you. Will you please just tell me what's going on?" Beckett implored. "You guys have literally kidnapped me and we're all somehow supposed to be 'safe' here – but safe from what? What's going on with this riot that's supposedly happening?"

The doctor pushed his glasses up his nose and wiped his palms on pants of his blue scrubs. His name tag glittered in the pale glow of the room. _Frantz_, she read.

"Uh…well," his eyes shifted to the group of three still engaged in argument across the room. After a moment, he stepped closer to Beckett and licked his lips nervously.

"There were a bunch of people in the free clinic with the cold, some were running really high fevers – unusual for this time of the year, but not entirely implausible. Mostly teenagers. We thought – thought it was just one of those crazy random things that happen y'know, but then one kid started …. Uh. His skin started burning up, literally."

"He caught on fire?"

"Not exactly, but he was smoking. From the _inside_. So we decided to ice him over just to see if it helped. The minute Jenkins, a nurse, got close to him he reached out and growled, and I mean growled like an animal and tried to bite a piece of Jenkins off," Frantz shuddered and exhaled. "Kid's eyes were glassed over, and it was like he was possessed – wouldn't let go of Jenkins and kept wanting to bite her ear off. Naturally everyone else panicked and tried to get Jenkins away from the kid. Thing is, kid had a death grip on her – far stronger than he should have been capable of. Wouldn't let go."

"So … you all panicked over some kid who grabbed a nurse? Seriously?"

"Look, lady – Beckett. I'm not done. As soon as this kid got crazy the other kids starting burning up too. Some were smoking, some weren't – I guess the symptoms weren't all the same but … all of them … they all had the same unseeing eyes, none of them were speaking and the only sounds they were making were growls and moans and shit, Miss, it was terrifying."

Beckett sat for a moment, absorbing what she'd just heard. It sounded like something Castle would come up with, ridiculous nonsense that had no place in the real world … and yet …

"What are you saying, Doctor?"

"I don't know what I'm saying, okay? All I know is that these kids were going crazy. The Chief barricaded himself in the free clinic with a couple of other doctors, saying he's got a handle on things and divided the rest of us up to get everyone else in the hospital to safety. All I know is, when I left the clinic three nurses and an intern were lying on the floor bleeding to death on account of those crazy kids wanting a piece of them. The screams from inside were so loud and I didn't even know if it was the kids or the doctors or whatever. It was like World War Z down there," he muttered.

"It was messed up," Daniels chimed in. Apparently the rest of the doctors had stopped whatever they were doing and had listened to the last part of Frantz's retelling of the situation. "Definitely sounded like a whole bunch of zom – "

"They're not real, D," the intern simpered from the ground. "They can't be. It's not biologically possible."

"Sure it is," Keenan sniggered. "And when they come for us, you'll be the first one we sacrifice."

"Shut up, Keenan!"

"Why, can't you fend off a couple of kids? Afraid they're going to – "

"Guys!"

The doctors stared at Beckett, surprised at her outburst. Beckett had had enough. She pulled herself upright on the bed, the hospital gown crinkling as she attempted to stand up. Oh. Bad move, the room was spinning.

"You should probably sit down, Miss," Daniels said.

Beckett gritted her teeth and ignored her. "You're telling me, that in the last six hours or so, some sort of teenage riot has been going on and people are dying and no one thought to call the cops?"

"Uh, we did. They told us to hang tight and try to contain it until they assessed the situation," Keenan provided easily. He shrugged off his coat and sat down cross-legged next to the intern he was taunting. "So there's nothing we can do til the cops do whatever it is they do right?"

"Are you guys idiots? People are dying and instead of controlling this outbreak you're huddled in here, doing _nothing_?"

The silence that followed was unnerving. At least they had the decency to look properly chastised – none of them were able to meet her accusing glare and not even the smug one had anything to say.

The nurse spoke up eventually. "They're all only interns, Miss. It's their first week. The only reason they're up here is because the other doctors thought they could handle it better and got these interns to get everyone else to safety."

"Do you believe this? That some sort of viral outbreak is causing these kids to … eat people?"

The nurse shrugged. "I saw it myself. I've seen a couple of weird ass things happen here – but those teenagers? They were dead, alright. Dead and alive and hungry. I don't know what else to tell you. You can call it whatever you like, but as far as I see it – we're in a bit of pickle and if someone don't do nothin' soon, we're all gonna be next."

Oh God.

What. The. Hell.

The fear actually set in, flowed through her veins and settled heavily in the pit of her stomach. Surely it wasn't really happening. None of it was real…. Could it? She looked at the faces of the interns around her and the terror on their faces was as clear as day. At the very least, they believed it was real and it was terrifying them.

Flesh eating teenagers. _Violent_ flesh eating teenagers. Oh. God. The panic was growing and she wanted to throw up. The throbbing around her bullet wound was intensifying and the stitches on the side of the abdomen were hurting. She swallowed nervously and forced herself to keep calm.

Her cellphone vibrated again and Beckett prayed it was a message saying she'd been punked. Thanks for playing, have a nice rest of the day. She opened her eyes and swiped her finger to unlock the phone. She'd received a total of five messages and three missed calls – all from Castle. She scrolled to the earliest unread message and opened it.

'_Beckett, you okay?'_

'_Looks pretty serious in there – please call.'_

'_Espo and Ryan aren't answering, Beckett. I'm going over there if I don't hear from you.''_

'_You're in danger, Kate. Hang tight, I'm coming to get you.' _


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for the wonderful feedback. Much appreciated!

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Castle flew out of the cab the moment it rolled to a stop, flinging a few notes at the cabbie as he crossed the street. He barreled through the front doors of the precinct and into the elevator, jamming the button as he silently urged it to hurry up. The ding sounded and he almost tripped in his haste to exit the elevator.

_Whoah. _

He could tell almost instantly that something was wrong. He rounded the corner hesitantly, looking into the bullpen and to his surprise didn't see a single uniform on the floor – no detectives either. Castle immediately felt chills run down his spine. He'd never seen the precinct this unattended.

Casting a sweeping gaze around the bullpen, his eyes fell upon the Captain's office and he felt a wave of sadness wash over him. Amidst the craziness of the past four hours or so, he'd let himself forget that Montomery was gone. It wasn't until he saw the office, Montgomery's belongings in boxes that were half opened, that it sank in. Montgomery was truly gone. He licked his lips and shook himself out of the memories that were crowding his mind.

"Hello? Ryan? Esposito? _Anyone_?"

His voice rang out into the eerie silence and he tugged at the collar of his dress shirt nervously. Surely – _surely_ there were policies against leaving the precinct this empty. It didn't feel right. _Nothing_ felt right. The uneasy feeling at the bottom of his stomach grew and he breathed out slowly. His heart hammered in his chest, his over active imagination drawing all sorts of conclusions from the scene before him.

Damn. This was _so_ not the time to panic. Not now, not when he still needed to get to Beckett.

Somehow.

He'd thought if he managed to get to Ryan and Esposito they'd be able to get him past the security that would undoubtedly be at the hospital – but as luck would have it, neither one of them were to be found. His calls had gone unanswered and it only served to heighten his discomfort. Clearly they weren't at the precinct either.

A quick glance around the bullpen told him two things. One – everyone had left in a hurry. There were still half-full mugs of coffee and computer monitors were still turned on, not on their lock screens. Most of the detectives' coats, jackets and blazers were still draped around the back of their respective chairs – another sign that their departure was sudden and unexpected. Two – if whatever happened was enough to make an entire precinct of cops disappear, he should probably leave as well. Quickly.

Castle checked his phone once more, noting no calls or messages and started thinking.

_Okay. _

_Calm down, Rick. No need to jump to conclusions just yet. _

There were no cops around. He still needed to get to the hospital. Whatever was happening at the hospital, it was serious. He'd stopped looking at the news after the first casualty was reported, knowing that until he got there and saw the situation for himself, most of it would be speculation. He had left the loft in a hurry, shooting off a text to Beckett asking if she was okay.

He was pretty sure she was – at least, he _hoped_ she was. Beckett was resourceful – strong, wounded or not. Castle was more than a hundred percent sure Beckett could hold out on her own for a little while. If the situation escalated however, and if there were going to be more deaths, Castle knew he needed to be there with her. Despite her stubbornness and her infuriating belief that she was a superhero that could take on the world, there was only so much she could do in her current state.

Which meant he had to hurry.

He looked around again, his mind churning out a hundred different scenarios he'd be faced with. It was going to be messy. There were kids who had died, which meant a lot of angry, distraught parents. Fully armed cops were milling about the hospital, who knows who else would be there. This meant he needed something to protect himself. And Beckett, when he got to her. He needed weapons.

Well, he _was_ in a cop precinct.

Castle walked to Beckett's desk and pulled open her bottom drawer, knowing full well she usually kept her backup piece there. He pulled the gun out as he made a mental note to thank her for being so prepared – checked that it was fully loaded and tucked it into the back of his jeans. As he pushed her drawer closed, he was struck by a sudden thought.

If this was … okay, he didn't want to say it – but if this _was_ the start of what he thought it was – then he'd need more than just a single pistol. He'd need … more firepower. He made his way to the weapons locker room. Under normal circumstances he'd be forbidden from stepping foot in it.

_Well, this wasn't a normal circumstance, was it? _

He walked past Valasquez's desk and spotted her gym bag tucked underneath her desk. He grabbed it, emptying it as he continued on to the weapons room. The electronic lock proved to be no hindrance to him, having seen the cops punch in the code more than a hundred times into the thing in his years there. Swiftly keying in the code, he grinned in satisfaction as he heard the familiar click and swoosh of the door unlocking.

The lights blinked on as he entered and he saw a whole bunch of … nothing.

He groaned in disappointment as he realised the weapons room had been emptied. Not a single gun was left on the hanging rack. A few vests, a couple of gun holsters, leg straps and a few boxes of ammo were all he could see on the benches in the room, but otherwise it looked like the other people had had the same idea as he did. He sighed. Well. They would have to do.

He shoved the Kevlar vests into the gym bag, opting to leave the shoulder holsters out. As he picked up a second vest, a knife clattered to the ground. Okay, that wasn't too bad. He stepped into a leg strap and sheathed the fallen knife into it. He looked at the gun holsters once more.

Oh what the hell.

He shrugged his sports coat off his shoulders, pulled the shoulder holsters on and put Beckett's gun into the holster. Castle zipped the gym bag up, took one look back at the room ensuring there was nothing else to scavenge from it and walked out.

Weapons, check.

He sent off another text to Beckett as he left the precinct, the gym bag slung across his body. He hailed a cab, noting with some trepidation that the streets were suspiciously quiet and empty.

Oh well. Focus on that later, Ricky.

Time to go get Beckett.

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Martha Rogers was a smart woman, or so she liked to think. When Richard casually let slip that he might not be heading to the Hamptons that summer, she knew why and she couldn't blame him. With Beckett laid up in the hospital and her son's relationship with her in somewhat of a limbo, he obviously needed some time to sort himself out. She'd also seen firsthand the bond the two shared and his need to be close to Beckett while she was healing far outweighed the frivolity of his annual summer retreat.

So she'd graciously excused herself from the loft, patting her son on the back as he helped her bring her bags down to the front door. To his credit, Richard did promise to come up after a few weeks to spend at least a little time away from the city. She'd kissed him on both cheeks and was about to call a cab when she was suddenly surprised by a voice that called out to her from the top of the stairs.

Alexis rushed down in a whirlwind of red and breathlessness, two full duffel bags in her hands. She breezed past her father, ignoring his inquiring look and grinned at Martha.

"Can I come with you, Grams?"

Richard was noticeably taken aback – clearly the girl hadn't spoken of her plans to her father, but seeing Alexis' look of determination, nothing was going to change her mind.

"Honey – ," Richard tried, but was cut off by the young redhead.

"It's fine dad. You wanted to stay so you can make sure Detective Beckett's okay, I get it. It doesn't mean my summer has to be ruined right?" She said with vehemence that both adults blinked at her.

"C'mon Grams, I called for a cab - should be here now."

And with that they left a dumbfounded Richard Castle standing at the entrance to his loft, watching their retreating backs as they leave him for the summer.

It was a full week after their departure and Martha still hadn't managed to get anything out of the girl. Alexis came and went from the Hamptons house as and when she liked as she caught up with her friends. The few hours in a day that they had managed to spend together the younger girl avoided talking about her father or Beckett. Martha guessed that it had something to do with Richard attempting to leap in front of a bullet aimed at Beckett, but every attempt she made of bringing the shooting up had resulted in Alexis clamming up or making a hasty exit. It seemed to Martha it was better to let the girl sort out her issues in her own time.

Martha sighed.

_What a mess. _

She took a sip of the Bloody Mary she'd made for herself and flicked through the television channels absent-mindedly. Her attention piqued as she stumbled upon channel depicting what seemed like downtown New York in shambles. Before she could determine if it was a scene from a movie or if some tragedy had indeed befallen her beloved New York, her phone rang.

_Ah, Richard. _

The call connected, but before she could greet her son she was interrupted. "Mother, I can't reach Alexis, she's not answering. Is she with you? Are you and Alexis still at the Hamptons?"

He sounded harried – rushed, as though he was in a little bit of a panic. It wasn't something she was used to hearing from her son.

"Yes, Richard. Here until the next weekend if all goes to plan. Alexis is out with friends at the moment, what's the matter? You don't sound okay."

"I don't want to alarm you mother, but I guess you'll know eventually once you check the news – "

Martha looked back at the television screen and gasped in horror as she read the ticker underneath the scene of devastation before her. "Richard – is this – is this New York?"

"Yes, yes - it's … pretty bad. Something's happened at the hospital. I think it's under attack. I can't get into it now Mother, but I need you and Alexis to stay at the Hamptons. Get … supplies, food – nothing perishable. Lots of it. There's a safe in my office -"

"Richard, you're scaring me – please, please tell me what's going on!" Martha's heart thudded erratically in her chest, her own sense of fear rising as the reporter on the screen talked about feral teenagers and a possible contagious virus that was spreading among them.

"I can't tell you anything, I don't know much yet. Believe me, Mother I'm doing my best. I'm on my way to get Beckett and I'll come up to the Hamptons. Keep Alexis safe, please. Don't ... don't go anywhere you don't absolutely have to go. Cook everything you eat – boil the water you drink. I'll … I'll be there as soon as I can," he said. "I need to know you'll be safe. Keep Alexis safe."

Martha nodded even as she realised Richard couldn't see her. She could hear the fear in his voice, the worry dripping from his every word.

"Yes – yes I will. Go, go do what you have to Richard. Get here as quick as you can. And – and keep me updated will you?"

"Yeah. I will. Tell … Tell Alexis I'm sorry for everything. And that I love -"

The line went dead.

Martha pulled her cell away from her ear and let out a sigh as she realised it was out of charge.

Dear Lord.

She had to get to Alexis.

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	3. Chapter 3

Apologies for the delay. Real life got in the way. Once again, thank you for the reviews and follows.

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Castle had to exit the cab three blocks away from the hospital. There were blockades all over the place and the streets were lined with abandoned cars. The silence was nerve-wrecking. The cabbie smiled in relief as Castle gave him his fare, speeding away even before the door slammed shut.

The hospital loomed in the near distance and from his vantage point on the street, Castle could tell that getting to Beckett would be a little more difficult than he'd anticipated. There were mobile investigative units lined up along the entrance, ambulances and – what were those trucks –

_The CDC?_

Okay, so the CDC were there too. Great.

As he got closer, he managed to make out the mixture of cops and CDC personnel in hazmat suits milling about the place. Police barricades had been set up around the perimeter of the hospital as people crowded around the entrance, shouts of dissatisfaction and frustration getting louder and louder as the minutes ticked by.

Well at least it wasn't scarily quiet anymore.

He used his bigger bulk to push past a majority of the angry crowd. If he could somehow make his way to the front, maybe he'd see someone from the precinct – charm his way for some information, to be let in … do whatever he could to get to Beckett.

Muscling his way through the last angry row of protesters, he found himself watching the scene before him unfold like something out of a movie. Rows of decontamination tents had been set up outside the hospital, trucks emblazoned with FDNY were parked back to back along the entrance – cops were everywhere, as were the fire department. He was about to try and push past the metal barricades when a cop appeared in front of him, pushing him back roughly.

"Sir, you're not allowed here."

The uniform reached for her piece and the crowd suddenly grew wilder. "I'm afraid you'll have to move back – oh, Mr. Castle!"

It was Valazquez, Castle realised. She looked a little worn out and disheveled. Castle nodded at her in greeting. "Yeah, hey. What's going on in there, where's Ryan and Esposito?" He asked, raising his voice over the noise.

"They went inside a few minutes ago, part of a joint rescue squad with the Fire Department. The commissioner said that getting the survivors out were the priority."

"That's … that's good. I …"

A loud explosion deafened him and he braced himself against the crowd at his back. The glass windows along the second floor of the hospital shattered outwards as a series of smaller explosions went off. A thick plume of smoke started billowing out of the now broken windows. The explosion set off the alarms of the cars parked nearby, dogs howled – more sirens. Cops shouting at one another.

_Oh god. _

His heart was racing, the smell of smoke surrounding him – suffocating … and _Beckett_. She was still in there.

"Velazquez, Beckett's in there!" He yelled over the commotion, pointing at the hospital to emphasize his point. He swallowed the fear that was threatening to overcome him. He was about to lose his shit, and as far as he could tell, so were most of the crowd.

"You have to let me help, at least tell me what's going on – please!" Castle's frustration grew as he noticed more cops entering the hospital – this time in riot gear and a bigger group of fire fighters following closely behind them.

"I understand, Castle. We're not allowed to – well I guess it's probably because we don't know anything yet. But we're not allowed to … uh, talk to you. Civilians."

The rage inside him grew and he could feel himself shaking from it. "Can't ... can't talk? That's my partner in there! She's wounded! I need – _please_, Valazquez."

"Mr. Castle – oh," She was interrupted by a loud siren from a megaphone, blasting from somewhere within the barricades.

"A state of emergency has been declared by the mayor of New York. Everyone is to return home immediately. We will update everyone when we know more. I repeat, everyone is to return home immediately. Any unauthorized person who remains within a hundred yards of the hospital at noon today will be quarantined, with no exceptions. Everyone, go home!"

A group of cops made their way to the barricades to thin out the crowd. Castle stood his ground and grabbed at Velazquez's arm before she could turn away.

"Look, just … get me in. No one will know it was you. I _need_ to get to Beckett. Please," he pleaded even as people started walking away angrily, herded away by the authorities.

Something he said, or something about the way he said seemed to have worked because before he knew it, he was being dragged through a small opening, roughly lead through the confusion of people and police. He didn't know where he was headed but as he was lead far into the military-like set up, he heard bits and pieces that sent his nerves into overdrive.

_Hospital's a dead zone. Left wing's completely overrun. _

_Nothing else we can do. _

_Raze the damn thing down. _

_Virus spreading like wildfire, can't be contained. _

"Okay, we're good here," Velazquez finally said as she stepped into decontamination tent. Castle followed closely and zipped up the entrance hesitantly.

"What's going on?" He asked again.

"I honestly don't know," she started but was once again interrupted by another explosion. She sucked in a deep breath and continued. "One minute everything was fine, and the next we get a call from the commissioner saying all sorts of crazy things – the entire precinct was needed, uniforms and all. Then we got here and realised that the feds had taken over – the fire department had sent everyone they had and the other precincts too. The CDC arrived and made us all get cleaned up, told us it was some sort of mutated strain of the flu virus that needed to be contained immediately," she paused.

"This is more serious than a flu virus," Castle muttered in disbelief.

"Yeah, we figured. But no one's saying anything. Word is the first team that went in - they are all dead. The patients have gone feral – the ones … the ones affected have become violent and they took them all out. That's when they sent in a second team, Ryan and Esposito are with them. We haven't heard from them yet. It's getting crazy in there. You really shouldn't go in. Even if Beckett – "

Castle cut her off with a wave of his hand. "I'm going in there no matter what. I've got … I've got a gun. I know how to use it. And," He patted the bag slung across his shoulder. "I uh … borrowed your gym bag for some other stuff… if that's okay."

For a moment Velazquez let a small smile grace her features. "I knew that looked familiar."

"Just tell me how to get in, and I'll let you get back to it," Castle said.

"There's nothing I can say to stop you?"

"Not unless you've got Beckett hidden somewhere out here in this mess of things."

"Okay… the first rescue squad went in through the back, just around the corner from where we are. I don't know what the situation is like in there – but if Beckett's in the ICU, that's in the central wing. Stay away from the left wing where the free clinic is, whatever you do."

Castle nodded as he took it in. "Thanks, Velazquez. I owe you one."

Velazquez shrugged – what else could she have said really? She walked over to the entrance of the tent, unzipped it and peered out.

"Coast is clear – you should be able to make it to the back door. You don't owe me anything. Just … just be safe."

00000

So maybe charging into the hospital without backup hadn't been such a good idea. Sure he had his arsenal (if it even qualified as an arsenal) of weapons, but the situation at hand was one he never encountered before.

And also, usually, Beckett was around to go through the doors first.

The moment he stepped inside, he was cloaked in darkness. Except for the glowing emergency 'Exit' signs, the hospital was completely dark and his hairs were starting to stand on their ends. He gripped the pistol in his hand a little tighter and kept going. The explosions thankfully seemed to have happened far away enough to not have affected the area was currently in. Still, he knew it didn't mean that he was completely safe.

Or if Beckett –

Nope, he wasn't going to go there.

He crept through the hallway, taking note of the signs pointing towards the ICU. Beckett was a few floors above him so he'd need to find a stairwell. He pushed past a set of doors and found himself in some sort of visitors lounge, empty and silent.

Until he saw the bodies.

He barely held in the gasp of horror as he realised there was blood all over the floor. He scanned the room, and spotted them – 4 dead bodies – and swallowed. That wasn't … _too_ bad. The bodies lay in a pool of their own blood, limbs ripped apart and skin shredded into strips. Flesh hanging off the face of a woman as her eyeball stared unseeingly at the ceiling above her. Eyeball. One. Because the other seemed to have gone missing.

Castle almost threw up.

_Nothing_ – not even the years by Beckett's side had prepared him for this. He fished around in his pocket for his phone, pulling up Beckett's number. The last few times he'd tried calling, they refused to connect and his texts weren't being sent. He tried again and once again failed to connect. Cursing, he proceeded through the lounge.

He spied a fire exit at the end of the hallway and his heart skipped a beat. Keeping his back firmly against the wall, he made his way slowly past the bodies and through the end of the hallway.

And then he heard it.

A soft scratching, rhythmic and consistent. His heart started racing. As he got closer to the door to the stairwell, the scratching grew louder and he licked his lips nervously. Whatever it was, he'd have to find a way past it to get to the stairs.

Moaning.

Now there was moaning. Oh God.

He raised the gun and sucked in a deep breath. O-okay. The door was heavy he knew, and he'd have to push the handle down with one hand before he could muscle it open. Whatever was back there could get the jump on him if he wasn't quick enough.

Castle pushed the handle down slowly and used his shoulder to push the door the rest of the way open, his gun trained on the slit of the entrance as it got wider. So far, so good. The scratching remained consistent, moaning just as loud and he took relief in the fact that whatever it was didn't seem to have noticed his presence. He pushed the door completely open and immediately whipped his gun back up in front of him, forcing his eyes to scan the darkness for the other … presence.

Shit.

Standing in front of him was a teenager. Clad in just a pale blue hospital gown, the boy stood stock still in front of him – dead eyes, mouth hanging open tongue lolling past his chin. Castle found the gun shaking in front of him and realised he was trembling. The boy didn't seem to register that he wasn't alone. His left hand was holding onto the stair rail, fingers scratching at the metal. All the while, just staring blankly at Castle.

Castle was at a loss as to what to do. For all the time he spent reading comics and playing his video games, they had definitely not prepared him for any of this. What was he supposed to do now? Call out to the kid? Shoot him? There was no possible way he would be able to sneak past the boy without bringing some sort of attention to himself.

Realising the boy posed no immediate threat, he lowered his gun and considered his options. No point in wasting bullets – so he slipped the gun back into the holster and pulled out the knife instead. The boy was obviously blind but Castle wasn't going to assume that his other senses were similarly affected.

Castle pointed the knife at the boy and readied himself.

"Kid," he said. "Hello."

The scratching stopped. The boy cocked his head to the side and moaned a little louder.

Ok, blind, but not deaf.

Castle raised his knife even higher.

The moaning got louder and as if he was sniffing Castle out. The kid drew in a deep breath and then his moans turned into a menacing growl. He stepped forward, feet moving steadily and Castle shrank back. His back thudded loudly against the door and chills travelled down his spine as he realised he was cornered.

Shit.

All of a sudden, the kid screamed and lunged forward, arms flailing in front of him as he bared his teeth. Castle dodged him, a quick duck under the boy's outstretched arms and a side step put him beside the boy instead of in front of him. The kid righted himself and turned towards Castle, hands grabbing wildly. The growls increased in volume and Castle stepped backwards.

The kid leapt and a knobby knee connected with Castle's stomach, sending them both crumbling in a heap against the stairs. Castle gasped in pain as his back hit the edge of a few steps and he threw his hands up, preventing the boy from getting any closer to him. The knife had fallen uselessly to the side as he got knocked back and he pushed hard against the kid, trying to unbalance him.

Casttle brought his knee up, slamming it against the boy's back. The impact stunned the kid for a moment and it was all the time Castle needed. Using all the upper body strength he could muster, he pushed himself up and as the kid fell away, grabbed the fallen knife. He dusted himself off and quickly walked backwards up a few steps, still carefully holding the knife in front of him.

The boy had stopped growling and it seemed as if he was searching for Castle even though he hadn't gotten very far.

Castle's heart was pumping, fear coursing through every vein in his body and took in a few gulps of air as he kept staring at the boy. The kid turned to face the door again, fingers scratching in futility at the grey paint, his earlier tussle with Castle seemingly forgotten.

Castle squeezed his eyes shut and forced his nerves to calm down.

That had been _way_ too close.

He took one last look at the boy and turned around. Making sure to remain completely silent, he made his way up the rest of the stairwell.

00000

"_She's fine!"_

"_She's can't be that great of a cop if she's – "_

Beckett was back at the cemetery, Castle looming over her – his blue eyes …

"_Shut up, Keenan!" _

"_She just got shot for Christ's sake! It's PTSD! Did you learn nothing at med school?" _

How can you love me, Castle?

Why did Montgomery die for me?

Shit – the pain. Oh. She's … she's not back at the cemetery.

"_Hey – wait, just … she's coming around."_

Hospital.

"_Just give her some space, you idiots!"_

The voices became clearer as Beckett regained awareness of her surroundings again. Her world came back into colour as she realised she was looking up at a bunch of masked faces, blinking at her. Startled at their proximity, she cried out and backed away – only to find herself in more pain and her escape hindered by a wall at her back.

"Detective?" Keenan – she recalled. His name was Keenan and he was the smug one, only he didn't look all too smug at that moment. The concern was evident on his features and she blinked a few more times to make sure she wasn't hallucinating.

How long had she been in lost in a panic for?

Beckett winced as she breathed in, her first deep breath since coming to and the pain was ridiculous. She could feel the sweat drip down her face, seeping into the thin material of her hospital gown.

"Y-Yeah. What the … what happened?" She asked, fighting through the remnants of the vivid memory of the cemetery. She could still smell the grass, feel the sun on her skin, the warmth of Castle's presence at her back.

Enough.

"Um, there was an explosion and you sort of just … fell," Daniels explained as she held out her hand to help Beckett up.

"Explosion?"

"I think it was in the psych ward, not too close but still a little dangerous. We really should try to make our way out of here," Keenan said. The others nodded in agreement at his suggestion.

Easing herself back onto the gurney she was brought in in, she sighed. These group of young doctors were clearly in over their heads. Beckett pushed past the pain and decided if anyone was going to take charge – it was going to have to be her. "Okay, so we get out of here. What do we do then? We have no idea what's going on, what's out there. _Who's_ out there. We need some sort of plan before we go charging into the unknown, guys."

"You're the one with the cellphone, you tell us!"

She shot Keenan a glare, but soon realised he was right. Her cell – Castle had been texting her. Oh, where was it?

Suddenly there was loud scream in the distance and everyone scrambled around her.

The fear was palpable among the people in the room and Beckett didn't couldn't blame them. "That sounded like it came from nearby," she muttered.

"Yeah, I think it's time we really think about getting out of here, don't you think?" Frantz said as he peered back out the rectangle of the door. There were nods of acquiescence this time and the nurse stood up from her place sitting against the door.

"We're close to a fire exit, if we can make our way downstairs and past reception we can get out. Assuming the first floor hasn't been completely run over, we can put Miss Beckett on a gurney and push her through. I don't know what we can do about the stairs though," she said apologetically.

Beckett nodded. "I'll… I'll be fine," she said. She could deal with it when the time came. She cast a long look at the people before her. Their frightened faces stared back at her but underneath the fear, she could detect the faint determination within them and that was just about as good a motivation as any for them to get out of there.

"Are there … bags in here? Can we grab supplies? Bandages, syringes – whatever we can take with us, we'll take. There's no point in leaving these things here and who knows what we'll need later."

The doctors went into action at her words and started gathering everything in sight and slipping them into plastic bags they'd found around the OR. Beckett watched helplessly, taking note of the silence that had befallen the group. It was as though the reality of their situation had really hit them, and their earlier bickering and arguing had fallen to the wayside as they worked together.

Her mind was conjuring up all sorts of implausible scenarios, things that Castle would have been so proud off. Teenage riot, murder, and violent killings – it seemed so surreal and yet … too real. The pain in her chest was a constant presence, and then there was the niggling feeling that things were going to get a lot worse in the near future.

Castle would call it her 'spidey sense'.

Thinking about her partner brought on a new surge of worry through her. The last time she'd heard from him, he'd sent a cryptic text implying that he was about to do something to come and get her. She wondered if he knew what was going on. If he even knew what he was getting himself into.

Considering the circumstances they were currently in, Beckett could only hope Castle was far, _far_ away from the hospital.

00000


End file.
